Every Step

Chapter 3

"May I present Miss Voile Pierlot, daughter of Sir James Pierlot of Brittany." The announcer presented Rose as the chosen pseudonym for this evening. Marc always had fun playing around with different names and coming up with different backgrounds. For the masquerade ball, he had chosen the Voile; in some translations of French, that word meant veil. Although their nation had an obsession with ancient French culture, from naming their streets and cities after French cities to following the fashion trends of ancient France, the language was lost to most people.

Rose walked down the grand staircase leading into the ballroom and took in the scene around her. There were tables filled with food all around the room and a large dance floor in the center. There was a live orchestral quintet playing in the front and the room was filled with chatter and laughter and dancing. For a moment, the sight took Rose's breath away. There was so much luxury in this room that it was difficult to comprehend. Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she composed herself and received her dance card.

It wasn't long before she was sweeping along the dance floor, person after person signing her dance card. Most people had no thoughts about the government or an impending revolution. This was not the first time that Rose had to deal with uninformed society people. She was well versed in the small chatter of how each man she danced with wanted to make more of himself then what his father expected, and how each woman dreamed of owning a house outside of the city. Their dreams were quaint, but Rose knew that they would live their lives the way that they always had, not willing to give up comfort for change. They were the essence of everything she was ready to fight against. After a couple more songs, there was a break in the music so the orchestra could take a break and collect themselves.

"Do you have a preferred drink or do you just need a rest from all the dancing?" Someone had come up next to Rose as she was trying to decide which drink would help her get through the night. They were wearing a red military jacket and black slacks but not a part of their outfit compared to the mask. It was a silver metal and had intricate details around the edges. The top formed peaks so sharp, like a crown or the battlements of a castle. Their hair was a light brown, closely shaved on the sides, but with more length of the top. It was longer than the standard crew cut and long enough to be considered fashionable.

"No and yes. I did not expect to be dancing all night." She responded.

"Well, may I suggest the Absinthe? It's fairly alcoholic but quite refreshing, and to be honest, I've always been fascinated by the green color."

"Alright, maybe I will try a bit." The stranger then began to pour a small glass for her and one for themselves.

"How has your night been going so far?" they asked as they sipped from the Absinthe.

"So far I have been engaged in the exact same unintellectual conversation with almost every heiress and prodigal son in all of Paris."

"And what makes them all unintellectual?"

"It's not that the people are not intelligent, I sure hope not if they all had the best tutors and attended the most prestigious universities, but their worlds are so small. No one seems interested in the big picture, the fate of the future. All they worry about is whether they remembered to mark chicken on the invitation and not fish." Rose held her breath. Maybe she had said too much, but it had been a long night, and this was the first person who did not come up to her and immediately start talking about themselves.

"Well then, it seems like you have had quite an ... interesting night to say the least." They laughed as they finished up their drink.

"I feel like I have danced with every man and women in this room."

"It seems to be. Would you like to dance with someone who is neither a man or a woman? Pardon me, I know that is an old joke from centuries long past, but sometimes I can't resist."

"May I know who is asking?"

"Of course, I am First General Alvia Delsarte of the national battalion." They bowed, took Rose's hand and guided her to the dance floor. She was a little taken aback that her first real conversation of the night had been with the general, She was meant to gain information on them, not the other way around. "And may I ask who I am dancing with?" Their question brought her back out of her head.

"I am Voile Pierlot, daughter of Sir James Pierlot of Brittany."

"I think I've been to Brittany. Or at least stopped by."

"Most people have, there is a train station there, and the orphanage nearby runs a couple of food stands at the station."

"Ah yes! I remember I bought a couple pastries there on my last trip back to Paris." The conversation died out as the dance picked up. Every step perfectly choreographed to music from thousands of years ago. They danced across the room in perfect time to the music, moving in perfect rhythm with the music and their peers. Once the music came to a close they curtsied and bowed to each other, but before Rose could walk away, Alvia took her hand again.

"Would you like to see some more of the castle? Maybe the gardens? That way you can take a break from all the dancing." She could see through them. They wanted to take a walk with her outside in the night, but, all in all, this was the perfect opportunity to talk with them more and possibly gain more information. Up till now, this night had been positively fruitless in regards to useful information.

"You know, I think that is the best offer I have had all night."